Well, after all the talk of bangs last week, I ended up with…not a lot of bangs. I do, however, have a lot of layers and a really deep, dark, chocolate-y, almost-black color that I am in love with. It may seem counter-intuitive to darken one’s hair in the summer, but I march to the beat of my own drummer…or something. And anyway, this color–while darker than my natural dark brown–feels like me, which is a relief.
Don’t get me wrong, I really liked the balyage I had put in around the holidays–you can see some of it in the photo above–and the woman who put that color in my hair did a great job. But it started to feel tired after a couple of months, and when I was in Target trying on a maxi dress a week ago, I noticed a bright blonde stripe right in the middle of my ponytail that was, in some weird way, totally appalling to me (I believe this is what’s known as a “first world problem”). So–because I am fueled in great part by instant gratification–I picked up the phone and made a hair appointment that very day.
The funny thing is, I made an appointment with a stylist who’d cut my hair before, and who cuts my friend Kate’s hair regularly and does a great job. So I felt pretty confident in how my ‘do was going to turn out. But then, on Friday afternoon, I got a call from a very nice-sounding woman at the salon, informing me that said stylist had sliced her thumb open in a freak kitchen accident and could not fit that digit through her cutting shears. I could reschedule my appointment, she offered apologetically, or switch to a different stylist.
Because I’d been excited about getting my hair cut all week, I decided to keep my appointment but switch stylists, and let me tell you: There is something disconcerting about heading into a situation in which someone who has never touched the hair of anyone you know is about to come at you with a pair of scissors. I’m not even one who’s particularly attached to my hair–I lopped off a whopping 10 inches last spring and didn’t flinch–and I was still a little wary.
But DeeAnn, the woman who cut and supervised the coloring of my hair, was just lovely, and it’s kind of a relief to think that I’ve finally found a salon I’ll be sticking with, and, frankly, always should have stuck with. It’s important for a girl to have a good hair salon, I think; there’s something about getting a great haircut that boosts the self-esteem.
Plus: head massages while being shampooed.
I mean, come on.